


Dissolve

by UnoriginalAtBest



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Absofacto, Developing Relationship, Dissolve by Absofacto, I'm so scared, Insecurity, Inspired by Music, M/M, Paranoia, Relationship Issues, Song Lyrics, Song fic, THIS IS MY FIRST TF FIC AND I'M CRYING JUST THINKING ABOUT POSTING IT, anywho, egotism, mindscape, seriously everything in this fic has some sort of meaning behind it, strong symbolism, unexplained omnipotent force
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-03-28 00:12:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13892115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnoriginalAtBest/pseuds/UnoriginalAtBest
Summary: [Warning: hiatus until I can find the motivation to continue]How is one to dissolve in a pool of someone's affection when they can't even enter it?Starscream has been plagued every night by a dream of sorts, and he can't help but feel like it all means something far greater than his range of comprehension. Perhaps he is being transported to another plane of existence, perhaps something even more confusing. Regardless, the seeker cannot shake it from his processor, during recharge and even in his waking moments. The dream and all of the confusing questions that come with it will not cease. He has tried everything in his power to make it stop. . . or so he thinks.A little story I'm currently writing because the song Dissolve is very inspiring, and because I've been wanting to write a transformers fic for quite a while (especially a Megastar based one).Most of the story (if not all) will take place in the mindscape, and it shouldn't be too long. It's very focused on Starscream and Megatron trying to get a grasp on themselves and their relationship and what exactly they need to do to help it grow.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> "I just wanted you to watch me dissolve  
> Slowly  
> In a pool full of your love  
> But I don't even know how the chemistry works  
> When you're poolside  
> Kicking in the dirt  
> Kicking in the sand  
> And stirring up trouble"  
> Dissolve by Absofacto  
> (I do not own the song and am simply using the lyrics as inspiration. I highly suggest listening to the song yourself on Absofacto's Youtube channel.)

It all seemed a lot brighter to Starscream than how it usually was.

The seeker felt a familiar hum as many intricate and tiny vibrations rattled his frame. He touched down onto an invisible platform with a soft sort of grace. He felt more vibrations bombard him on contact, but he paid them no mind. His processor was too busy with a different sensation, one which made him grow all the more curious.

He was back. Again. He could feel it in his spark.

_This place_ , he couldn't help but growl to himself, the thought flowing through with the millions of others, yet it stood out in vibrant colors. It pushed to the forefront of his processor, and his optics onlined faster than he would like to admit. This place frightened him, though his pride would never allow him to voice such a thing. 

This mindscape, this white, almost barren mindscape plagued his recharge like and incessant bug. No matter how many times he swatted at it, no matter how much he ignored it, it never ceased. Even the few times he attempted to play along with the pest proved to be futile. This place left him dumbfounded every single time, and every single time he awoke feeling just as, if not even more so confused than the previous. He hate, hate, hated this unknown place. _Almost as much as I hate Megatron_ , he thought in a passing moment, but the mindscape did not let it escape.

In a jarring moment, Starscream heard and felt the blindingly white ground groan. It sent even more spark-thrumming vibrations through his core, and within the moment a new setting presented itself to the winged mech. It happened in a flash, and though he knew it was to come, Starscream was still startled into stillness every time. 

His optics flickered, and the barren white was gone. It still lingered around the edges of the new environment and in the far background, but what sat directly in front of him was filled with color and lines and definitive indentions. 

"The pool," the seeker said aloud. The words left a foul taste in his mouth, but he forced them out, anyway. Perhaps as a show of resistance to whatever greater force was trapping him here every night.

A few feet away from the seeker sat a vibrant pool of colors that wreaked havoc on his sensitive optics. He did not turn away to shield them and instead challenged whatever brought him here once more. He let his optics rake over the pool, almost hungry for more, as slow as he could without blinding himself.

Yes, it was all much brighter than before.

After finally deciding that he had sufficiently glared hard enough at the pool, he tore his optics away. It seemed ridiculous, even to him, to do such a thing to an inanimate object, but he had faced this very pool too many times to count. If he were to be trapped here every single night for the rest of his function, he would at least get some self-satisfaction. Even if that meant challenging a pool of swirling colors to a one-sided glaring match. He huffed, finally deciding to pay mind to a different familiarity. 

His optics traced the outline of the pool, an area covered in a ring of dirt. He kicked, sending a small puff of dust into the air, then watched it settle with little amusement. Out of every attribute this strange place held, it was the dirt that made Starscream's processor halt every time. He didn't understand why the substance decided to play a role in his mindscape, nor did he know what significance it held. The pool, even though its meaning alluded Starscream for quite some time, made more sense than the dirt did. He couldn't help but cock his optic ridge at it. 

His optics asked questions he could not voice, but as expected no one or thing answered. He shrugged, like he did every time, and decided to plop down on the floor. _The dirt_ , he reminded himself. Under normal circumstances, he would refuse to place his pristine aft on anything but a clean surface, but nothing about these circumstances were normal. He huffed once more and internally pleaded with the universe for this to end quickly. 

And so, it did.

After a few quiet and inactive minutes, the mindscape grew tired of Starscream. It began to shift, and the setting faded from existence, and the white faded to black. Starscream thanked Primus. The mindscape had nothing for him. It offered him no benefits, no change. It was the same every time. He had tried for many nights to understand, to solve the puzzle, but nothing worked. The only thing this pest had ever accomplished was making Starscream feel like a complete and total idiot.

The seeker took pleasure in the feeling of an inky blackness surrounding his frame and pulling him into real recharge. Hopefully, this greater force would take the hint and frag off. Yes, that would be ideal.

But Starscream's ideals never quite fit into the universe's plans.


	2. A Paranoid Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time one of their fights got out of hand...the first time Starscream discovered the confusing mindscape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Large blocks of italicized text is a flashback.
> 
> Italicized text in parts, more often than not, are thoughts.

_"Starscream." a deep voice called from somewhere behind. The seeker's frame stiffened for the slightest moment only to relax a nanosecond later. He huffed and turned in his spot in the middle of the hallway to meet the optics of a much larger mech._

_"Yes, Lord Megatron?" he replied. He was trying to sound bored, disinterested. Almost as if he were hiding some sort of turmoil brooding in his processor. Megatron merely ignored it._

_"Hand in those reports as soon as you're finished." he stated with a wave of his servo. Like it was some sort of trivial task, like Starscream himself was a trivial task._

_"As you command." Starscream said a bit too quickly. He bit his lip as he tried to suppress the urge to explain himself. He had no reason to explain himself. He didn't seem the slightest bit off, right? Right._

_He spun on his thruster almost as fast as his previous words spewed out. Did Megatron notice that? Did anyone notice that? He was attracting everyone's attention, wasn't he? He shook his helm with a bit more vigor than he normally would have liked and sped off down the corridor at a mall-walk-like pace. He needed to stop thinking, to get to his berthroom and block it all out with his excessive amount of work._

_'Yes, forget.' he told himself. 'Forget that this happened. Straighten up, block out the paranoia. You are not a paranoid bot. You are not high strung. You are exemplary and should carry yourself as such.' Then suddenly, as if the wave of worry had never washed over him, his wings perked up, and he strode through the hall with his nose up and his chassis out._

_Convincing the people around him was always easier than convincing himself._

* * *

The first time Starscream's optics opened to the blinding light of his mindscape had been in the middle of one of the most pain induced recharges of his entire function. 

Not only did the pain stem off from every part of his frame, on the surface as well as deep into his most personal crevices, but it came from somewhere inside of him, as well. Not physically inside, but rather mentally inside. He was hurt, and so were his feelings, as utterly baffling as that may sound. 

The seeker did not want to think about the events that led him into such a deep recharge, but he didn't have much of a choice on the matter. His processor kept replaying the events over and over, for even though he told himself many times that he wanted to forget, he really did not. He wanted to remember, and he wanted to fix it. Whatever had caused this...whatever had caused Megatron to act so blatantly violent...he wanted it gone.

The problem was, _he_ was the one that had caused it.

They had been arguing like they usually did. They had gotten violent like they usually did. Megatron had used more force than what was to come from a mech as angry as him...not like he usually did.

Starscream wasn't an idiot, at least not when it came to this particular scenario. He knew that Megatron hadn't been using the full force of his strength in the many fist fights they had indulged in. If he had, Starscream would have never gotten a punch in edgewise. He would have questioned Megatron on the matter had it not been for his gratefulness that their fights hardly ended in him donning more than a few scratches and an occasionally dented wing. His trips to the med bay were far from anything serious. In fact, Hook might have considered the few times he did visit after a fight with his leader to be ridiculous. Starscream could be quite particular about looking his best sometimes, even in the midst of war.

This trip, though. . .this trip was very serious indeed.

In the middle of their usual argument, something snapped. Something Starscream had fully well recognized but refused to believe was directed at himself in any way. _Especially_ , might he add, from _Megatron_. He knew the word, knew the implications of it and every complicated emotion that rode on its back, but he was not ready to admit that he knew that said emotion had flared in his leader's optics. Not when it was directed at him.

How was he suppose to know that bragging about his good looks bringing plenty wanton mechs to his feet would get Megatron's cables in a twist?

 _It didn't,_ he asserted quite viciously to himself. The snarl curling up his lips only made that statement seem angrier. _Megatron wouldn't- no, couldn't ever feel such a thing for me._ And that was it. He allowed his mind to turn over the topic that one last time, and then he threw it out. "The old fool was most likely doing that on purpose. To throw me off, probably," Starscream said aloud, crossing his arms over his cockpit. "Primus knows a mech like him can only feel a desire for power." He ignored the part where his processor told him that he, too, was one of those mechs. And then, his optics finally cracked open.

If he hadn't been so focused on the many emotions burning through his processor, then he might have noticed earlier that even though he was supposed to be waking up from a recharge that followed one of the worst beatings from Megatron he'd been dealt, he didn't feel the slightest bit sore. Not a single inch of his frame was lit up with any indication that he'd even been in a fight with his leader. The bright, white light reminded him of the lights in the med bay, but not even Hook could work out every piece of pain that followed repairs.

It took Starscream a full minute to finally question this, and it took him another to realize that his vision wasn't filtering out the lines of the med bay's ceiling and that the blinding white was not dissipating.

"Hook?" Starscream tried. He clenched and unclenched his servos to find that they were in working order. A quick run of his diagnostics told him that the rest of his systems were fine, too. He moved his legs, moved his helm, moved every little piece of himself that he could until he concluded that yes, he was indeed functioning. Substantially functioning. 

"Hook. . ." Starscream said once more, this time more of a hesitant statement than a question. He figured that it could be quite possible that his optics were merely malfunctioning, but this was proven wrong when he lifted his servo up. He could see it, clear as day, bright blue paint and all. It looked just as it normally did, maybe even better. Shinier, perhaps. Scratchless. "Impossible." he stated in a whisper, for how could a bot come out scratchless after a scuffle with Megatron himself. Hook was never that generous.

Now frantic, Starscream attempted to sit up on the med berth. Attempted, because it seemed as though he wasn't even on a med berth, to begin with. He realized now that there was no pressure against back plates. He felt none on his arms, either. If anything, Starscream felt almost weightless. 

_I'm not flying._ Starscream reminded himself, and then, _...or am I?_ But such a thing would have been impossible. His systems told him that he was functioning as if he were standing normally, but that, too, seemed impossible, for the weight of his frame was not pressed onto his pedes, either.

"Skywarp!" Starscream tried the name of his trinemate. It came as a reflex, especially now that his processor was failing at finding answers to his growing pile of questions. "Thundercracker!" His trine could help. They were supposed to. When the leader of a trine was in danger or any member of a trine, it was the duty of the others to come to their rescue. _Our trine link._ The seeker suddenly remembered, but when he tried to call to the other two seekers he only received static in return. He growled in frustration.

"Whoever did this will pay!" Starscream yelled into the void of unanswering white. He flailed, yet he came into contact with only the weightlessness around him. "If this is some kind of joke I'll have your head as a trophy!" He spoke as if he knew someone was listening, but in truth, he couldn't even tell if he was being watched or was simply left alone in this empty place. This only terrified him further, especially when he attempted to transform into his jet mode and fly away, only for it to not work.

He was truly helpless here.

"I swear if that tyrant of a mech Megatron has anything to do with this, I'll offline him the second he's in my sights!" Starscream screeched, truly terrified, but too proud of himself to admit that to whatever or whoever could possibly be listening. "Do you hear me, Megatron?!" Yet no one answered.

Instead, the light did.

In a blinding flash, one far brighter than the white of the surrounding setting, everything changed. Starscream froze, every circuit in his body stopping for a split second only to kick back on right after. His spark thudded in its casing and the seeker would be lying if he said he hadn't feared for his life at that moment.

The blank white slate no longer existed, at least not as it had before. Now there were colors, many many vibrant colors whirling and swirling in a pool no further than thirty feet away from him. His pedes stiffened as he suddenly touched down onto the solid surface of a dirt-covered ground, and he realized that he could feel gravity once more. Whatever happened in that flash of light seemed to have righted physics, at least.

But now there was something else to explain.

This new setting, the area around him, none of it held any logic. A few of his previous questions faded now that he could properly move, but many of them persisted along with some new ones sprouting in the front of his processor. _What is this place? How did it change right before my very optics? Who put me here? What do they want from me?_ He racked his helm for answers but none came. The only way to find out, it seemed, was to explore himself- an action which required him to be brave enough to look around, and Starscream wasn't exactly known for his bravery.

Still, with his frame only slightly shaking, he took a hesitant step forward. The seeker tried his best to puff his chassis out and stick his nose up to the sky, but he only managed to accomplish this with a little less vigor than normal. He needed to show whatever put him here that he was not afraid. The great air commander Starscream, future leader of the Decepticon Army, was not scared of a gravity-defying, bright white landscape.

He started toward the pool, for even though he felt fear lacing through him, it almost felt as if this pool were calling his name.

Even more paranoid thoughts rushed through his processor the second his heel strut came into contact with the dirt laid before him. Suspicion clouded his assessment of the situation, dripping into every crevice it could reach. He was always suspicious. Always calculating the things around him as if they would strike any moment. Even before he joined the army, even before he and Megatron were at each other's throats, he had always been insecure. He hardly trusted his own judgment half the time, let alone the judgment of anyone else. He recalled a time, many of times, where his paranoia almost got the better of him and caused him to blow a simple task- _such as turning in reports_ \- out of proportion. With something of this scale happening right before him, it was bound to become complicated sooner or later, and Starscream was far too impatient for later.

Yet he attempted to will these thoughts away.

He needed to keep a cool demeanor. He could not allow whatever was forcing him into this to know that it was getting to him. His faceplates were twisted into a scowl, a thoughtful scowl, yes, but he always looked like that. He convinced himself, far too early on, that he looked the same as always.

So, as he reached the edge of the pool, optics narrowed and looking for any reason to run, he held himself high and mighty. He clenched his servos at his sides and he was determined to figure this out. He could see his reflection, face tight and concentrated, amongst the luminescent colors below him, and he reached out.

His servo crossed the crest between the dirt and the poolside. It extended out as far as it could go before stopping and hanging in mid-air. Starscream wiggled his fingers, testing, testing, and his wall of mistrust slowly began to crumble at the realization that everything seemed safe enough. With as much grace as he could muster, he crouched next to the pool, hand still extended, and then slowly dropping as if to touch the colors. His optics glowed, with what, he didn't know. The tip of his pointer finger grew closer and closer to the pool's surface, and then-

_What if this is a trap?_

He flew back with a force he had never before felt.

Starscream's body skidded through the dirt ring and then even further out until he rolled to a stop in the blank white. He groaned, frame aching along with his processor. His diagnostics told him that he was still fine, almost as if nothing had flung him across the expanse of the mindscape. He gritted his dentas. _How dare-_

The seeker scrambled to his feet faster than he knew he could accomplish. His faceplates were now twisted into a sneer, dentas bared and ready to snap at anything the came too close. All of his paranoid thoughts from before came rushing back and he no longer cared if the thing trapping him here knew that he was angry or scared. He started, strut after strut, back toward the pool with indignant rage. 

"Why you little rust bucket- I'll end you for that!" Starscream yelled into the air, perhaps at the pool, perhaps at something else. He was clearly intent on touching the thing if he damn well pleased but only faltered in his steps when his frame came into contact with some invisible surface. He stumbled back, servos coming up for balance, and he looked on at the pool with a growl. "What in the name of Primus-" He reached out, only for his servo to be stopped by the same invisible surface. He let his fingers roam, gentle at first, and then they curled into an angry fist. "A fragging force field." He spat the words, bared dentas baring even more, and then he yelled like a child throwing a tantrum.

"You bring me here, take away my ability to transform or contact my trine, frighten me so that I almost malfunctioned, lead me to this- this useless pool of swirling colors, and then have enough nerve to block me from so much as touching it the nanosecond I even think about doing so?!" The enraged seeker kicked at the dirt. A puff of it flew up in a cloud and covered Starscream with grime that joined the patches he acquired from getting thrown earlier. He didn't care. He didn't care, he didn't care- _I don't care!_

And with that, he plopped his aft down into the dirt with the most snobbish huff he knew. He crossed his arms over his cockpit, turned his nose up so high that he could probably smell stardust, and arched his back in such a way that if he didn't resemble a sparkling that couldn't get what they wanted before, he did now. Then, in one final act of defiance, he kicked at the force field. 

The only thing that came out of that was a hurt thruster and the realization that he still hadn't figured out how to never again be beaten so roughly by Megatron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uuuuuuuh I hope? this is good? Please leave feedback!


	3. Ego

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A prince who thinks himself a king will only fall to his own ignorance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys I'm trying a little something here  
> Lemme know if you liked the way I wrote chapter two better or this one  
> I'm trying to figure out which method of writing is more enjoyable for my audience  
> Thank yooooouuuuu!  
> |||  
> Large blocks of italicized text are flashbacks.  
> Italicized text in parts are, most of the time, thoughts.  
> Italicized words by themselves are, most of the time, simply emphasized words.

_Starscream's frame hit the floor of the bridge so hard that it put yet another dent in his wings. The seeker ground his dentals together at the slight yet jarring pain, then propped himself up on his elbow and jumped to his pedes. He was most certainly not going accept this sort of treatment._

_"Getting back up will only make me knock you down again, Starscream." an aging voice threatened. Starscream glared at its owner from under his helm, part of it obstructing the view of his optics so that they looked even more narrowed and angry. He wiped a drop of energon from his lip plates, only briefly registering that he could feel a dent on his faceplates to accompany the ones now littering his wings. The slagging bastard had hit him right in the money maker, and it had been a pretty solid punch._

_"If you think you'll be getting out of this with only a few scratches, Megatron, then you're sorely mistaken." he spat. The silver mech's rage only grew at the venom pouring from Starscream's glossa._

_Megatron did walk away with more than a few scratches, but the injuries hardly amounted to the damage done to Starscream's writhing frame that now laid on the floor once again._

_"Pick yourself up, seeker," Megatron growled out. It took more effort than he would have liked to hide the pain lacing his voice. "Before I give in and finish you off." Starscream did not retort. Not a flinch came from his frame, nor did a sound from his vocalizer. It was only when a small pool of energon began to form from his ripped wings did Megatron scoff and turn to leave. He didn't kick an enemy when they were down, not even Starscream. Had the seeker responded in any rebellious way, he would have done so, but Starscream wasn't that stupid. He knew when holding his glossa would save his life, and he had made the right choice to do so now._

_It wasn't until Megatron had left the bridge did Starscream finally stir from his crumpled position. The fight had lasted longer than he anticipated, but that was most likely because of his inability to refrain from making snappy remarks. He egged it on, just like he always did._

_It'd be a lie from the pit if he said he was a complete victim. If not for his insubordination he and Megatron wouldn't be half as bad off as they were now. Half, because the other half was undoubtedly his bucket-headed leader's fault._

_He hauled himself up with shaky servos, a few of the other mechs that had witnessed the fight staring at their second in command. None of them had gone to Starscream's side to offer help, and as much as the seeker hated to admit it, he didn't blame them. Megatron would have their helms too if they so much as thought about helping Starscream. His leader wanted him to pull himself up off his petty aft and drag it all the way to the med bay if only to dwindle his ego. They all knew that it was a part of the punishment and that unless Starscream was inches away from losing his spark then could help himself._

_But Starscream wasn't about to give his leader the satisfaction._

_Starscream limped all the way to his quarters without a word from any other mech on the ship. He held himself up with pride the entire way there, paranoid mind only skimming over the possibility of someone taking advantage of him in such a weakened state. He didn't let his fake confidence - however strained it seemed - ease until he was safely in his quarters._

_His wings drooped, his chassis fell, his nose sank, and he breathed out a sigh filled with long-awaited relaxation once the doors closed behind him. Pain throbbed in every dented and ripped crevice of his frame, yes, but he was fine, he told himself. He would wait until morning, before Megatron awoke, to visit Hook for repairs. The energon leaking from his wounded wings was a definite worry. It could wait, though. It wasn't that hard to put a temporary patch on them until morning, after all._

_A quick glance to the mirror across the room was all it took for him to get started. He looked exhausted, disheveled, and downright unbecoming for a mech of his stature. He sneered at his reflection._

_Oh, how unfit a look for someone as mighty as him._

* * *

He never figured out how to get past the primus damned force field, yet the mindscape refused to cease from appearing every single night.

It was jarring for the first few weeks. Starscream had figured that this dream or vision or whatever it was would disappear after that first night. Oh, but he wished he had been right because it came back every time, one recharge after the other, without failure. He couldn't so much as take a quick nap without being sent there. He began to wonder if he had a malfunction. He had never heard of something quite like this before, though. 

He researched and asked vague, slightly rousing questions to a few other Decepticons only to receive a "no" and a cocked eye ridge as if the answer were obvious. But he wasn't going to tell them of his issue, primus no. He would keep this a secret for as long as he could.

Eventually, after about an entire Earth year of the same mindscape with the same prodding questions lingering around it, he finally got-

A change.

When Starscream fell into recharge that night and floated down into the usual spot- _thirty feet to the right side of the pool_ , he noted- he could feel that something was off. The blinding light remained as usual for the same amount of time, so that wasn't it. Even when the brightness dulled enough so that he could see his servos and twitch them back to life it remained. It was when gravity righted itself, landing him on his pedes that Starscream saw what was wrong. His optics shuttered and crinkled in confusion, and then they widened in shock.

The mindscape was different.

"What now." he drawled. He sneered at the sight- the dirt still in its rightful place, circling the spot where the pool would be. Yes, where the pool _would_ be because in its place was a wall of mirrors.

"No," he started, having taken up a habit of talking to himself while in the mindscape, and took a cautious step forward. "The mirrors are _surrounding_ the pool, aren't they." The mirrors shifted then, for a brief moment revealing the swirling colors behind them in confirmation, and then they were back in place just as quickly. The mindscape had developed the habit of "talking", too.

With his wings strung high and his fear thoroughly heightened, he stopped dead in his tracks when the reflection caught his image. His lip plates curled into a disgusted grimace. The sight of himself easily derailed his internal inquiries. He suddenly felt like the liquid in his tanks was sloshing and swaying his abdomen.

Instead of the shiny, pristine armor that he wore with pride, the mirror bounced back beams of light that caught his optics and revealed a sickly image. Him, Starscream, the Decepticon Army's SIC, covered in grime and filth and everything unsanitary. He snapped his head down at his frame with frightening speed.

Only to find that he was indeed as pristine as ever.

His optics shuttered and his faceplates morphed into an expression of perplexity. His plating looked fine. Too fine. The mindscape always gave his plating a sheen that he could never accomplish in the plane of wakefulness. But then-

His helm tilted to the mirrors once more, and there he was- covered in muck and looking like he had been to the pit and back.

He pondered this for a few kliks in a manner only Starscream could accomplish. His wings hiked up further while his back stiffened and locked in place. He narrowed his optics, a glow of wonderment emitting from their center, and then, quite suddenly, he was angry.

Lazy servos turned into ones filled with rage, and if it weren't for the grinding of his dentals pulling bits and pieces of said rage from his spiraling spark he would have thrown a tantrum. He battled with himself. He fought the urge to destroy the entire place, but his childish attitude got the better of him with one gut-wrenching thought: _It's making fun of me._

All of his confusion and frustration from not only this cheap imitation of himself but from his irritation of the new _renovations_ the mindscape had provided flew out of him in a few tense moments. His fists hit the mirror closest to him, shattering it instantly with only the frame remaining. Then his thrusters came up and did the same to the next. Servos flew, enraged noises fell from his mouth, and everything fell to pieces.

His digits wedged themselves into the crevice of two mirrors. They ground deep and hard in the glass. He pulled and _pulled_ with every bit of strength he had, but the mirrors did not budge. It felt as if an invisible force was holding them in place with an iron grip. Even so, Starscream did not stop.

He yanked and wrenched and pulled until the mirror cracked. Little crumbs of glass dribbled onto the dirt ground below. He could feel shards digging into his servos and small streams of energon running down in their wake. Then, with one last and hard jerk, he stumbled back, the mirror no longer in his grasp.

Starscream caught himself with two firmly planted pedes. His arms flew out for balance, and he ceased movement. His intakes worked hard to ventilate his anger-induced overheated systems as error messages popped into his field of vision to warn him. They did little to help, for he already knew that he needed to relax. 

For his sake alone, he tried.

In and out, in and out- count to ten, then do it again. Each method only worked half as well as it should have. Starscream decided that the only thing he could do was let his systems cool down on their own. For now, he would revel as pride welled up from the sight laid before him: each mirror shattered to bits, glass covering the floor, only to leave the aching and dented frame in place. 

He turned his nose up as a smirk lifted his faceplates. Yes, this felt good. Almost too good, but many things were "too" in this place. "Take that, you arrogant piece of slag," he spoke. "Maybe next time you'll give me a warning before you throw me into such an embarrassing position. Making me look as if I were filthy is the last mistake you'll ever make." Then, with a swipe, he flicked a patch of dust from his frame and pivoted away.

For his own sake, the mindscape was glad that he hadn't noticed the way his armor shined in the swiped spot from the small, reflective fragments of glass that remained in their rightful places.

* * *

A long sigh, or what seemed to be one, filled the now empty air. Not a seeker was in sight.

**Perhaps you are not meant to figure things out just yet. Perhaps. . .you should take time instead to ponder over yourself and how the ones you love perceive you.**

But Starscream could not hear. He had left ages ago, leaving the remains of an egotistic prince behind him. He would learn someday.

**But not yet.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for this chapter being so short :c I promise I'll try to make the next one longer  
> also, uuuuhh don't expect me to update this quickly all the time. This week has honestly been a breeze and I had the time and energy to go outside and write for an hour or two everyday. I'm grateful for that, because my urge to write has been growing ever since I started writing this. This fic is bringing back the need to create stories all over again, it seems ^^;


	4. A Warlord's Inquiries: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He had been there. . .the whole time. . .watching and studying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mkay so
> 
> Sort of late update, I know, but I have very valid reasons.
> 
> First reason: School. School is hard enough to deal with by itself, let alone when you're trying to write stories off on the side. I had tried for about a week to find the _proper_ motivation to get up and write something down, but I had been so drained from my school days that I just couldn't find it in me. So, after writing down about a thousand words, I decided to take about a week off.
> 
> Then the chaos came.
> 
> Second reason: The chaos. I'm in color guard, or more specifically winter guard since we aren't really marching until fall (but it's not winter guard either cuz winter's over) so it's! We spin large flags and do cool tricks to music! That's what we do.
> 
> Now, this coming up Saturday we have a competition. I've been preparing my solo for said competition for, well technically a whole year now, but I didn't actually start choreographing it until December. Still, I've been working my ass off to get it done and done the right way. Plus, I've spent a good bit of money on this thing. I've also made props which, btw, do you know how hard it is to find two sets of identical boxes?! It's mad! But that's beside the point. The point _is_ it's hard work, and hard work takes time. Hard work also causes crippling stress, but ya know, haha, that's totally not an issue or anything. Now all of that combined with me trying to write equals a very big need for free time. I normally write in my free time because I can deal with it, but with all of that shit going on I needed real free time. Like, idk, relaxing, watching YouTube, finally starting to read Mtmte (which, if things go well soon enough and I can finish this fic, I might write somethin' for Cyclonus and Tailgate. They're honestly? So dang cute? Ps. I'm on issue 39 at this current point in time, wish me luck).
> 
> "That's the end of the chaos, right," I hear you asking as if my life were that simple. The answer is no! Because starting tomorrow I have to work on another solo for my color guard captain tryouts _and_ prepare for competition at the end of the week! Which is precisely why this chapter is going to be in two parts and is shorter than what I promised. I figured I'd give you guys something before one of you pouts and goes, "I guess they aren't writing anymore." And if you were thinking that, then all I have to say is, "Hell no!" 'Cuz I love writing this fic. So do not fret. Things will work themselves out over time. I should have everything back to semi-normal standards after April 20th. Until then, thank you for reading this excessively long authors note and please do stick around for the next chapter.

Blood red optics flashed online quicker than they ever had before, faster than they did the first time he awoke from this dream. Thoughts flooded his processor one after another without cessation, bombarding the slowly rousing circuits in a symphony of clashes and clangs. They left no time to ponder. Only enough to pick and prod and flee as fast as Starscream could fly.

_Yes, Starscream._

One thought, in particular, made an outlier of itself. The slowly awakening mech did not let it disappear. Instead, he reached for it, then grasped. He shuttered his optics, and there it was in the palm of his hypothetical servo. He held onto it for dear life, and then the bits and pieces of his dream that seemed to have disappeared fit themselves into place.

Starscream had been there. In fact, Starscream had been the only one there, but that was not what had caused him to jolt back into wakefulness. The thing that startled him the most was how the setting had changed and how the scene that played out afterward was so drastically different. 

He recounted the events of the _first time_.

The main thing he remembered about the first time this dratted dream forced itself into his processor was how he did not have a body. His towering gray frame had gotten lost amongst the bright, flashing lights, it seemed, for his very essence resided in _nothing_. No matter how many times he attempted to move something, anything, he received no response. No silver plating bounced back beams of light, nor was he able to see his reflection when he looked down at whatever liquid was endlessly stirring below him. 

Which reminded him. . .

The liquid, or rather, the pool. It jostled and swayed below in swirling, unfathomable colors. They lapped at the air just below him almost as if they were grasping but never quite close enough. He floated above them, no body, no physicality, just _there_. He was lucky, though, that he was still able to twist around and see the dream's setting even without a body. He wondered, very briefly, where his spark was.

And that, he figured, was it. The only other notable thing, perhaps, was the dirt ring that covered the outer edges of the pool and spread out for about thirty or so feet. The rest of the dream consisted of a blinding white background with an infinite expanse. That was until his audio receptors locked on to the distant sound of someone calling out. He twisted around to try and pinpoint it, but it sounded as if the voice was coming from nowhere in particular. And then, as if he had materialized from thin air, Starscream landed on his pedes with all the grace of a once royal seeker.

He would have demanded answers from him had it not been for the fact that he no longer acquired a vocalizer.

He would be lying if he said he did not fear for his life for a split second. Thoughts of a scheming Starscream trapping him like this only to rip out his spark from wherever his frame lay penetrated his processor, wherever it was. But the snarky, evil remarks never came, and that only made him all the more nervous.

Starscream, after looking about with as much confusion as he felt, never once locked his gaze on the position where the body-less mech floated. He didn't even flinch. He was as invisible to Starscream as he was to himself. He relaxed knowing that he was okay, at least for now.

The brightly colored seeker hesitated, an action that he rarely saw from the SIC. Starscream looked almost scared for a few moments, emotions playing out vividly on his faceplates, and then he righted himself. Starscream was back to his old self in an instant. He puffed his chassis out, straightened his back, and stuck his nose up to the sky in a very arrogant, Starscream-y manner. For as outstanding a performance as that was the frameless mech remained unconvinced. If one were to look close enough, they would notice the way Starscream's frame rattled ever-so-slightly in fear.

Every step Starscream took, one heel strut after the other, carried a wall with it that built itself higher when it hit the ground. His emotions brewed under the surface of his armor, only visible by someone that had known Starscream for millennia. He hid them well from strangers, but he was no stranger. Starscream was scared. Starscream was _terrified_. This alone let him know that this was either a very realistic dream or a prison for the both of them.

Then Starscream stopped.

His pedes sat at the edge of the pool in a fit of confusion that mimicked the rest of him. Everything about Starscream's posture, even though he held himself high, seemed unsure and unwilling. Overbearing thoughts and ideas played around his frame over, and over, and over until something clicked and his faceplates set, stern and sure. A servo, now steady, lifted itself over the crest of the pool's edge. His fingers wiggled, and then he was gracefully crouching, and then he went to the pool's surface.

In that tiny moment, before everything shattered, he could remember thinking to himself, "I've never seen a look quite like that cross Starscream's face." It mesmerized him, and very suddenly he wanted Starscream to brush his gentle fingers over the pool's surface; caress it, ponder over it, dive into it, _dissolve_ in it.

But then it crackled through Starscream's energy field: a flash of mistrust. Suddenly, he was angry. Even more sudden was Starscream's frame flying halfway across the white backdrop. 

The seeker hit the ground with a "thud" that would have made the frame-less mech grimace had he had a face. Starscream slid about half as far once he hit the ground, an audial shattering _screeeeech_ emitting from metal grinding against another hard surface. After a few rolls, he stilled. A moment's pause of no movement, and he wondered if the seeker was unconscious. Another, and he asked himself if he had caused this. Another and Starscream was back on his pedes in mere seconds, slinging insults, waving his fists, and spitting venom in the frameless mech's direction.

He grew angry once again, and the walls flew up.

Invisible walls appeared around the pool instantaneously. He was unsure how he had conjured them up. Furthermore, he had not a clue as to how he knew they were there, even before Starscream accidentally ran into them.

The seeker stumbled back, servos coming up in a pathetic attempt to catch himself, and he grimaced. Those same servos planted themselves onto the invisible walls with a whisper of, "What in the name of Primus," and somehow he felt it. The body-less mech could _feel_ Starscream's touch. It was gentle, curious, and almost non-existent, but most of all it was fleeting. A second later and the caresses were gone. Instead, there came the fists, the anger, the insults. "A fragging forcefield," Starscream spat, and he could feel the heat radiating off of Starscream through the forcefield's unexplainable connection to him. Then the seeker began to yell again, and every word stabbed a new hole in the body-less mech. Like he was being betrayed, like Starscream was invading some personal part of him.

"You bring me here," Starscream began. The body-less mech could no longer trust the situation to right itself. "Take away my ability to transform or contact my trine," and he could feel that this was never meant to go well in the first place. "Frighten me so that I almost malfunction," and through his anger, he felt an annoying pang of guilt. "Lead me to this-this useless pool of swirling colors," and the word "useless" gave him more whiplash than a firm punch to the face. "And then have enough nerve to block me from so much as touching it the nanosecond I even think about doing so?!"

 _But I could feel it_ , he thought to himself. _I could feel how you refused to trust even when I was helpless and unarmed._ And then something clicked.

He had not orchestrated this. He had not lead Starscream here. Hell, Starscream wasn't even talking to him. The seeker had no idea that he, of all mechs, was here, silently watching. So why did this all feel so personal? Why did every venom filled word frustrate him so? He wanted to lash out with violence and smart comebacks, but he couldn't. He was powerless. The only thing he was truly capable of doing was keeping Starscream away from his little spot in the middle of the swirling, colorful pool below. He swore to rip the head off of whatever had trapped him in this place, leaving him at the mercy of this traitorous seeker, but he was wiser than that.

He _knew_ , oh Primus he knew. He could feel it in his spark precisely what this was about, but he had no answers. What this place wanted from him, it was a favor he could not accomplish. Not, at least, without the cooperation of Starscream.

But even Starscream would be easier to convince than his own denial.

In the end, Starscream left with a childish tantrum and a hurt thruster. The only thing that stayed behind with the body-less mech was the swirling pool below. He wondered, very briefly, if keeping Starscream away from his pool was really worth all of this trouble and loneliness.


	5. A Warlord's Inquiries: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More insight into Megatron's side of the experience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, this is long overdue. I can't promise that I'll never again wait three whole weeks to give you guys a half-par update, but I hope my promise to continue this story is enough. Let's just say that between contest, tryouts, and school I haven't had the energy to write. When someone lovingly takes the time to cheat their way to the top you start to realize that maybe you shouldn't try and beat them anymore and perhaps focus on things in your life that actually matter for your future. One of those things is my writing skills and stable mental health. I'm not gonna go into detail on what I meant by someone who lovingly cheats their way to the top btw. But I will say that I know way too many manipulative and undeserving people and I hope I never have to associate myself with them again. Anywho, have a fun read!

The first time had been a disaster at best, and none of the times that followed had been any better.

"Lord Megatron: needed in the war room," a monotone voice called from the comm mounted on the front wall. Megatron groaned, slowly pulling himself into an upright position from his place on the berth. He shuttered his optics and let a servo come up to rub the back of his helm. "Lord Megatron?" He grumbled to himself and kicked his legs in a grumpy attempt at standing. It was easy to forget you had a war to run when your processor flooded itself with malfunctions such as Starscream.

Still, he was the leader of the Decepticons, and the horrendous processor-ache causing his helm to throb spurred him to take full advantage of that.

"Reschedule the meeting to an hour from now, Soundwave," Megatron said after stalking over the wall comm. There was a light shuffling from Soundwave's end followed by a small, hesitant pause before a response came.

"Yes, Lord Megatron," he answered. Megatron glared at the comm for a moment but decided to ignore his third in command's pause when the comm clicked off. He chose instead to place his aft into the nearest chair to work the ache in his processor off before he had to take care of his responsibilities.

But, as with any time there was an issue involving his traitorous second in command, he wasn't allowed even a moment's rest.

The Starscream in his "dreams" was more than a figment of his imagination. That was the first thought that slipped through his mental barrier. The seeker was far too realistic, even for someone like Megatron who had known him for millennia. The mindscape version of Starscream held too many complexities in his metaphysical servo. Megatron, for as arrogant he could be, knew that his processor was incapable of creating a version of Starscream so close to the real deal. It seemed even more improbable when this mindscape version popped in every night.

With those raw emotions, and that short temper, and that unbearably conceited high-held nose he was impossible to be any one person's perspective of himself. This Starscream was real. "How" would be a question for later. He still had yet to grasp a clue for that answer.

But the emotions, raw and unfiltered, that radiated off of Starscream were familiar. He felt them every time he and the seeker had another one of their trademark arguments that, more often than not, dissolved into fist fights. Still, not even outside of the mindscape did Megatron see the confusion and hurt that washed over Starscream's face as he tried and tried to solve the puzzle of the pool. In their new shared space, Starscream was more open, it seemed. 

A gruff part of him said to take advantage of that, but another said that now was not the time.

None of this, though, was what plagued his mind the most. He forced his flow of thoughts to turn toward a new direction. Instead of the first time or the many times that took place over the past year, he focused on the most recent one. The one that had awoken him that very morning to one of the loudest poundings in his head he had ever heard. 

He had paused almost immediately after appearing in his usual place. Something felt off, something he couldn't quite place. His optics focused, and suddenly he understood why. Instead of the vast whiteness that always accompanied the mindscape, there was now a plethora of rectangular objects blocking his view. He turned a full three-sixty. They surrounded him . . . him and the pool.

"What now," someone drawled, and knew it could only be Starscream. Megatron whipped around toward the source. There was a slight pause, then, "No." The sound of a thruster heel taking a hesitant step forward resounded. "The mirrors are _surrounding_ the pool, aren't they." Mirrors? That seemed to be what the rectangular-shaped objects were, then. He flicked his view up toward the top of the mirrors where they grew smaller and closer together like they were completing the top of a dome, but before he could finish his observation something stopped him. His vision flicked back down toward the source of Starscream's voice. The feeling of something taking control made his mind swim, and then the mirrors in front of him were parting. For a very brief moment, they opened to reveal Starscream, who looked as confused and intrigued and annoyed as ever, staring at the gap. His optics did not focus on Megatron. His optics looked right through him like they always did, and then the blinding white backdrop and the gaping seeker were gone. Starscream was replaced by the mirrors once again.

For a long time after that, there was a silence where no one spoke. Megatron's thoughts were racing, yes, and the feeling of someone controlling something that wasn't their's left, but it was quiet. He took this moment to cut his memory off.

Megatron, the one who had been sitting in his berthroom lost in thought, took a sip from his energon cube. At some point during his inner turmoil, he had stood from his chair and grabbed some energon from his personal energon dispenser. With the cube set firmly in his servos, he allowed a brooding look to wash over his optics.

"Control," he mumbled to himself. That moment when the mirrors parted to reveal his second in command he had felt someone invade his personal space. He had not moved them on his own accord, but rather someone had done it themselves without his permission. He couldn't understand why, though. The mirrors were not his, nor did he yearn to own them. They were just mirrors. For a moment, he recalled the first time, when Starscream's insults aimed at the forcefield felt like a personal vendetta against his very spark. He had been unreasonably upset then, too.

A small part of him was beginning to regret telling Soundwave to push the meeting back. He no longer desired to think so much now that these events were becoming so personal. Still, a stubborn kick pushed him forward. These "dreams" had plagued him for a year too long, and he was going to stop them. Even if that meant admitting things to himself that he would otherwise rather bury.

With a shutter of his optics, he was back again. 

The sound of pedes coming forward jerked him out of his thoughts. His vision shot back toward the spot where the mirrors parted, anticipating something, he didn't know what. Then, with an abrupt halt, the sound ceased. The clacking echoed one last time, and then all was silent. _Megatron could feel it._

Starscream was angry. How Megatron knew was beyond him, but he could feel it. It radiated off of Starscream's frame in waves, penetrating the wall of mirrors like they were nothing. It was eerie, yet Megatron was not afraid. 

Then a sharp pain.

It wasn't the kind of pain that had a mech doubling over and praying for mercy. It was the kind of pain that made you angry and frustrated. It prodded at Megatron with just enough force for him to notice, but then it was gone, too fleeting for even a masochist to enjoy. Accompanied by the pain was the sound of glass shattering. Cracks and creaks and snaps bounced through the air in waves of noise until they reached Megatron and he realized what had happened. Starscream had, without a doubt, broken one of the mirrors.

Another sharp pain alerted Megatron to the shattering of another mirror. He fought the urge to break the physics of this realm and tear himself a new mouth to yell his frustration at Starscream to instead ponder. He had no idea why the seeker had suddenly grown so upset, but that was normal for him anyway. Starscream had more mood swings than circuits in his body. Megatron wanted to rip those circuits out as he felt the pain again.

And again and again, until he felt Starscream's servos grip the frame of a mirror and _pull_.

Megatron's first instinct, in his bout of rage, was to push every mirror outward so forcefully that Starscream flew out of the Mindscape. But, after giving it a good try, it seemed that he was incapable of doing so. Instead, he took to holding all of the mirrors in place with as much strength as he could muster. Starscream's servos ached against the mirror's frame. The glass cracked as a few pieces crumbled to the dirt, but he stood no chance against Megatron's superior power. Megatron might not have a body, but he would still beat a lesson or two into Starscream if he felt the need. 

With one last grunt, he felt Starscream's hold release. Once again, silence drenched the entire mindscape, aside from Starscream's heavy and exhausted venting. A moment later, and the irritated anger that had clouded Megatron's mind began to dissipate. Replaced by it was all of the previous ponderings he had gathered as he studied Starscream's behavior. He wondered, briefly, if his angry outburst had been unwarranted. Perhaps it had been a good thing that he was unable to fling Starscream to space and back with the force of his mirrors.

But he shook that away as being a silly and sentimental thought. One an old mech like him didn't need.

"Take that, you arrogant piece of slag," Starscream said, and Megatron snapped himself from his reverie. "Maybe next time you'll give me a warning before you throw me into such an embarrassing position. Making me look as if I were filthy is the last mistake you'll ever make." The fading sound of Starscream's heel struts click-clacking across the ground followed. Not for the first time in his function was Megatron fuddled by Starscream. He hadn't made Starscream look filthy, not that he remembered anyway, and instead wrote it off as another one of Starscream's paranoid accusations. 

He sighed, as best as he could without a body, and prepared himself to leave. At least he could lie awake in his berth for a while if he pleased. That alone was much better than floating around in this miserable place. With that in mind, he began to leave.

A small tug on his conscience, like someone trying to ask him to come back, made him pause in his exit, but he ignored it. 

Now Megatron sat back in his chair. The energon cube from earlier was almost empty. He tipped it back, allowing the last of its contents to flow down his intake, and it was gone. His servo came down and clacked the cube onto the table next to him.

Yes, that Starscream was real in some form or another. If this "dream" had been a dream of his own Starscream would be dead by now. At least, the version in the mindscape would be. As it stood, there seemed to be something holding him back, something controlling this entire scenario. The mirrors parting by themselves, something tugging on him to come back as he left, and the simple fact that he and Starscream, or some part of the real Starscream, were there all proved this. His processor ran through the possibilities of this being a ruse, but he crushed those thoughts. The mindscape felt like a personal place. He filed the ruse idea away as something to keep in mind, but he felt as though he wouldn't need it.

The mindscape was something more than he could figure out with the knowledge he currently had. After a year of studying and pondering he finally knew that he needed help. He could always confront Starscream, but who was to say that the seeker even remembered the events that took place every night. That and a small nagging at the back of Megatron's processor told him that he could still be wrong about this and that studying things a bit longer could benefit him.

But, a little more information never hurt anyone, and there was only one mech he knew that would willingly give him whatever answers he wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the beginning notes seemed a bit out there. Just wanted my readers to know that I've been dealing with some toxic people and needed some time to recover. Hope you all understand.


	6. There's a Certain Luxury in Listening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One more lesson to learn before he can reign his pride back in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh. It's been a while. Especially for a short chapter. But! There is a good reason. School was absolutely destroying me for the last month. Less about the work, more about the people I had to deal with and the stress. But, for reasons I won't be disclosing, I quit color guard. Soooooo, I'm pretty much free all summer besides working out and other minor things like reading for AP English. Other than that, updates should be back to a regular schedule now. Not to mention I have the next few chapters planned out pretty damn well, and tbh? I'm proud of this. I'm proud of this story. I've never once written such a long work that held legitimate coherency and thought such as this one. It requires so much work and symbolism, but damn I love it. Definitely my best work, in my opinion. But yeah, don't worry your pretty little heads about me abandoning this. It means too much to me for a lot of reasons.  
> Thank you to everyone who waited patiently for this!

He couldn't ask yet.

The prideful part of Megatron that had caused so many issues in the past would not allow him to stoop down and ask another mech for advice. He wanted, no, he needed to try one more time. Doing so would keep his ego intact, would let him know that he did not give in so willingly any time an easy way out opened up to him. 

Megatron came to this conclusion, not through thorough thinking, but rather through the long-winded process that always preceded complications like this. His insecurities were talking again.

He was prideful. He was always sure of himself. At least, that was his image. In any other situation, he might have gone on ahead, but this was different. He was asking someone else for help, and every time he did that he felt real and powerful shame.

_Soundwave_ would have to wait a little while longer.

So the second Megatron felt himself land in his usual spot above the mindscape's pool he was ready to have at it. He had spent the better part of his evening rolling over idea after idea to fix this ridiculous situation, and he had a few solutions in mind. 

None of which weren't of any use in the long run. Throwing Starscream into the pool on purpose was _not_ a good plan.

With all of these ideas flowing through his processor, it had taken him a moment or two to realize that the mindscape had changed once again. The mirrors and the shattered mess of them Starscream had left behind were gone. The pool was wide open with no walls or complications blocking the sides. Nothing that Megatron could see, anyway. It looked identical to the first version. A sort of hopefulness came to fruition at the thought that this might be easier than presumed.

But what a fool he was to think that this would ever be an easy task.

When Starscream appeared, his heels clicking down onto the white surface without a sound, a metaphorical frown pulled at Megatron. It became even more apparent that there was an issue when Starscream turned towards the pool, indignant as ever, and spoke with dramatic enunciations only to emit no sound. Now that Megatron thought about it, he couldn't hear _anything_.

The sound of the pool lightly lapping against its confinements no longer resounded. He could not pick up the sounds from Starscream. His footsteps, as well as his loud, screechy voice, had vanished. He briefly wondered if his audio receptors were damaged, but he waved that worry off. He had no audio receptors here. This was something else's doing. 

If he could have glare, he would have.

With a look back toward his Second in Command, he could still see his mouth running. It seemed that Starscream could hear himself, at least. It became very apparent, once Starscream stopped blabbing a few minutes later, that his voice and his footsteps were the only things he could hear. Starscream paused. His optics scanned the area, darting this way and that. He tapped the metal plating on his thigh, jumped slightly at the clink of metal on metal, then paused again to listen. Still, he looked dumbfounded. Starscream knew something was off, and Megatron felt a peculiar sense of respect well up at Starscream's perceptiveness. He batted it away with a sort of annoyance. 

"It's too quiet," he read on Starscream's lips. Yes, too quite indeed. The seeker's face twisted into a contemplative scowl. His hip cocked out in the way it always did when he was standing in place, and finally, his optics landed on the pool. 

'Yes, the pool,' Megatron thought. He flipped the idea around for a moment, vision still locked on Starscream's form, then it clicked. With a bit of hesitance, he tested the limits of his abilities. He focused on the shiny colors of the pool below, felt a wave of energy, and then-

_Swish._

A small but noticeable wave rippled through the pool. Starscream startled, one thruster falling back a step. His optics widened, then they came back together into a squint. His upper body leaned forward out of curiosity, almost like he thought he imagined it. With another flick, Megatron did it again.

Starscream perked up almost immediately. His back straightened like he was attempting to impress someone he was meeting for the first time, and the dumbfounded look on his face turned into one of confidence. With a twitch of his wings, he allowed his pedes to step forward. Then another, then another, until he was leaning over the side of the pool like once before. Another time, when he had been too paranoid to manage.

But for some reason, he was not paranoid this time. Megatron, too, felt a sort of comfort fall over the mindscape. He had no idea what he was attempting to accomplish, nor did this follow along with his original plan, but he continued. With another swish, he tried to make the wave even larger. To his disappointment, it stayed the same size. But this was enough. 

Starscream crouched down just like before, and his servo reached out. Another swish and the colorful liquid of the pool barely brushed Starscream's fingers. The seeker drew in a shallow breath, and he yanked his servo back. He was hesitant. Megatron could tell.

Even without sound, even without the ability to hear Starscream speak, or move, or do anything, and even without the ability to present himself to the seeker, Megatron was listening. Body language. Facial expressions. The lack of noise caused him to pay attention to everything visible, and for a moment it seemed like he understood everything.

But that dratted pride.

It felt like a crack had suddenly formed in the atmosphere when Megatron's insecurities flooded back in and started speaking louder than before. He was too gentle, too caring. He was wide open. Years of war taught him that kindness was not something you gave away this easily, especially to a traitor like Starscream. But had this been easy? Hadn't he earned a soft moment like this?

_Don't you want to be close to him?_

And he broke. The waves of the pool drew away from the edge, scared and unsure. Starscream too reeled back. The pool's open border shut down, a wall falling between the Decepticon leader and his Second in Command. That blissful moment void of second guesses was gone. But the remnants remained.

Starscream looked down at the dirt ground. His optic ridges drew together, and his servos turned to gentle fists. Without a sound, Starscream turned and left.

Megatron watched the whole time. He watched white wings fade into the backdrop. He watched bright red fade into a pale pink. He watched bottled up fear morph into a facade of confidence. He watched until he could no longer listen. 

But he had already stopped doing that a long time ago, hadn't he?

Now, he felt, would be a good time for some self-reflection and a bit of consultation with someone who wasn't a fool.


	7. Against the Grain of his Aching Pride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After last night's visit to the mindscape, both Starscream and Megatron have been plagued with new worries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo! Hope ya like it!

Starscream jolted awake.

He was in his berth now. The setting of the mindscape had drifted away with his recharge. The last thing he recalled was walking, walking, running away from something. He felt fear, not at something that had any physical form, but at something within himself. He felt sick.

But instead of purging his tanks into the nearest trash bin he groaned and held his helm. 

How could he have been so stupid? Getting emotional over something as insignificant as that pool. True, he had been attempting to breach its borders for quite some time now, determined to accomplish his goal due to some unknown force he was unable to place. He decided a while ago that it was because he never allowed himself to lose, even though he knew that didn't quite fit. He felt a connection, but he would never admit that to himself.

Starscream groaned once more, the grogginess in his processor persisting. He needed to get out of the berth. He had things to do, much to his dismay, and lounging around would only earn him a yelling match with Megatron.

_That old mech_ , he thought, arm placing itself over his optics to block out the world around him. _Always bothering me, even when I'm not feeling well. Too arrogant to ever listen. It's like talking to someone surrounded by walls._ And with a sudden click, Starscream's processor made a connection.

_Just like that damned pool._

Walls built up, almost impenetrable. Impossible to figure out. It changes its mind at precisely the wrong time. And when it lets someone get close, it rips their hope of someday getting closer and starting something intimate by jerking away and-

_Well that does sound like Megatron. Except for that last bit._

Because Starscream did _not_ want to be closer to Megatron. He only wanted a leader that didn't have the social skills of a piece of plastic. His life would be much easier that way. With his armored denials firmly in place, Starscream pushed himself out of the berth, processor still as groggy, mood still as grumpy.

* * *

White wings and Starscream's retreating back. Those were the last things he recalled. The image had practically burned itself into Megatron's optics. He could still see it, even now. Even in the waking world, it was just as vivid. The feeling of his berth against his back was what convinced him that it was gone.

He had to shake his helm to make the image go away, but the outlines remained. It still lurked in his peripherals. He wondered, for a brief moment, when he started to feel things like guilt.

But he had decided, in the last few moments he remained in the mindscape, that it was time to consult with someone. As much as he hated to admit it, he needed help. The only mech he trusted enough was Soundwave, but even that was a bit of a stretch. He hardly trusted anyone, even himself, with matters that dealt with . . . emotions. But here he was, finger poised over the comm button and ready to get a means to end this ridiculous scenario, even if that meant opening up. Just a little.

When had he gotten so soft?

"Yes, Lord Megatron?" Soundwave's voice was as monotone as ever. For that, Megatron was grateful. He wouldn't be able to handle another subordinate like Starscream who's emotions ruled their every decision.

"Soundwave," Megatron began. His voice came out as stern as ever. "I need to speak with you about something important. Meet me in the command center." There was a slight pause as if Soundwave was contemplating something.

"Yes, Lord Megatron," he said again. And that was it. No intrusions, no embarrassment. With his current predicament, Megatron almost expected something more to happen. As if the whole ship would fall apart if he asked Soundwave for help, but that was it. He wondered once more when emotions like this had wormed their way into his circuits.

He set his faceplates into a stoic expression, then gathered himself and headed for the doorway. All he had to do was make it to the command center. He would speak with Soundwave, he would get his answers, and all would be well. He had nothing to worry about.

Except, perhaps, running into Starscream the nano-click he stepped out of his room.

Starscream and Megatron locked optics. The air in the hallway immediately felt stagnant and awkward. A silence fell over the area, neither of them wanting to be the first to speak. For a moment, Starscream broke the stare off to give Megatron a once over, optics sweeping down and then back up to meet the other's gaze. 

Megatron only stared down at Starscream. He studied the seeker's posture, the way his wings twitched when he thought, the way he stood with his hip cocked to the side. He realized that he was studying Starscream as he had in the mindscape. Reading body language, listening, listening. Starscream was nervous.

"What are you staring for, old fool?" And he wasn't listening anymore. His stoic expression set in further.

"None of your business," Megatron replied. Starscream riled up for a brief moment, but Megatron continued before his sic could respond. "Don't forget about the meeting later today. And _don't_ be late. You have a knack for it." Starscream scoffed.

"I try my best to miss meetings that force me to put up with mechs as difficult and unwilling as you."

"Perhaps I wouldn't be so _unwilling_ if my second in command wasn't only concerned with his ego and unrealistic standards."

"Perhaps you simply do not listen to your second in command enough!"

Megatron's mouth opened, vocalizer readying itself to start yelling at Starscream for the millionth time when the seeker's word caught up to him. Listen. Starscream wanted him to listen. Starscream was implying that Megatron didn't listen . . . and he was right.

_Starscream was right._

Megatron closed his mouth. His entire demeanor faltered. He looked defeated, if only for a moment until he stiffened up once more. He did not look frightening, though. He looked shocked, even with his faceplates set into a neutral expression. "Go to your post," he said, voice lower than normal. Starscream raised an optic ridge. He huffed, and then he was off. 

It took a few moments before Megatron shook himself back to reality and followed.

* * *

By the time Megatron had reached the command center, Starscream was at his post across the room. The seeker did as usual and lounged back in the chair in front of the monitor. He kicked his pedes up onto the panel. Megatron had reminded Starscream countless times that the command center was not a lounge room, but he let it slide this time. He had no desire to speak with Starscream, not right now. Not until he sorted this out.

He tore his optics away from his sic and caught sight of Soundwave. The Decepticon was next to a wall, far enough away from nosey mechs that he and Megatron could speak how they liked. He was stiff, as he always was, as he looked over the rows of mechs at their monitors. Some were doing their work, some were slacking, and some would glance over at Soundwave every once in a while out of curiosity and nervousness. When Megatron stopped next to his third in command, their optics returned to the tasks at hand.

"Greetings, Lord Megatron," Soundwave said. Megatron nodded, doubts about telling Soundwave surfacing in the back of his processor. He crushed them as best as he could. "You needed to speak with me."

"Yes," Megatron replied. He turned, back now against the wall like Soundwave, but still far enough away that Soundwave couldn't see his face. "I have a . . . pressing matter." Megatron crossed his arms, optics landing on Starscream once again.

"Is there an issue with Starscream," Soundwave questioned, but he already knew the answer to that. 

Megatron nodded again. "Yes, he's a part of it." He sighed, shuttered his optics, then looked down at Soundwave. "It's a bit more complicated than that."

* * *

Megatron told Soundwave everything. The mindscape, how long it had been since it first started occurring, even the details of the times it changed. And before Soundwave could so much as start a question, Megatron assured him that the Starscream in the mindscape was real. He had no proof, but his intuition was enough. 

A long silence, besides the noisy whirring of machinery, washed over the two mechs. They stared over the room, watching the mechs at work, Megatron trying his best to keep Starscream out of his sight. Soundwave hadn't said a word throughout the whole talk. Megatron wondered if he was having as much trouble finding a solution as he was.

"Talk to Starscream," was the only advice Soundwave offered.

It startled Megatron. The warlord's optics widened at the suggestion. He had bruised his pride asking Soundwave for help, and now he was suggesting Megatron talk to _Starscream_ about it too? Perfect.

"Why would I do such a thing," Megatron asked, offense obvious in his tone of voice. Soundwave raised his helm to look at Megatron.

"The problem: involves both you and Starscream. You need to work together," Soundwave replied. Megatron scoffed at that.

"Starscream? Work with me? That's laughable. Utterly impossible." Megatron waved a servo, chuckling at the suggestion. Soundwave was not chuckling with him.

"Telling Starscream: beneficial," Soundwave said, and Megatron's chuckling ceased. He looked down at his third in command again. "He does not seem to know you are in the mindscape with him. Working together can lead to less confusion and more progress." Soundwave almost seemed frustrated as he explained. Megatron shook his helm.

"No, it wouldn't work," he replied, and Soundwave's posture drooped ever so slightly in defeat. "He would only think I've been orchestrating this whole thing. Not to mention, his ideas are always terrible. He wouldn't-" Megatron paused. In the corner of his optic, he saw white wings twitch. Starscream was leaning his helm on his servo, frame tilted towards Megatron and Soundwave like he was attempting to listen in to their conversation. He knew Starscream couldn't hear them from where he sat, but his mind was not bothered by that.

_"Perhaps you simply do not listen to your second in command enough!"_

Megatron sighed. "Fine. I'll consider your suggestion," he told Soundwave, optics still locked onto Starscream's frame. "You are dismissed."

"Yes, Lord Megatron." And with that, Soundwave left Megatron to his own devices, frame now upright and sure once again.


	8. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explaining anything to Starscream, especially a matter as complex as this, is never an easy task.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish this would have been longer, but I've been tired and stressed lately so please forgive me.

The meeting had gone unusually well.

Two Earth hours passed without incident, Soundwave didn't have to break up a single fight, and Megatron didn't hear so much as a peep about a harebrained scheme only a mech with rust in their processor would consider decent. But what surprised everyone the most was that Starscream did not speak once throughout the duration of the meeting. The effect was an eerie, obedient silence that had every mech in the room on edge. Things would have gone better had he caused a fist fight with Megatron.

Starscream did not notice. The seeker had spent his time picking at the chipped paint on the table or staring at the wall, helm in his delicate servos. He was distracted, that much was obvious, but the constant scowl on his face ceased any questioning over the matter. The only sound came from Starscream's uncomfortable shifting in his seat and Megatron's monotone voice as he discussed the usual. Energon shortages, disobedience amongst the ranks, even a few maintenance issues that came with being underwater, a place a ship meant for spaceflight should not be. Everything was the same.

_Except for that damn discomforting silence coming from Starscream._

Megatron noticed, there was no way he couldn't have. He realized something was off the second Starscream's thruster didn't rebound off the floor with faux confidence the nano-second he stepped into the room. He decided, after giving Starscream a good twenty minutes to point out _something_ he thought he should add his two cents to that it would be best left alone. He didn't need Starscream getting riled up over such petty things when he needed his help-

Primus, he still needed Starscream's help.

But Starscream was none the wiser. He could sit around and chip at paint and brood all he wanted while Megatron had to force himself not to think about his dwindling pride in order to carry on with the meeting. Somehow Starscream was getting the upper hand on Megatron without being aware of it. An accomplishment, even for him.

When Megatron finally wrapped the meeting up, Starscream stood from his seat with suppressed enthusiasm. He took a moment to stretch and flutter his wings, and then he was off, click-clacking his way toward the door with a fervor. A few steps more and he would have made it out, but his luck never stuck around long enough.

"Starscream, I need you to stay behind a moment."

The sic held in the string of cusses surging through his thoughts. "I have much to do, Lord Megatron," he attempted. He turned to look over his shoulder, optics looking rather tired for someone as young as him. It didn't elude Megatron.

"This is rather important," he said, almost as a reminder to himself to make sure he went through with this. "It's . . . not something that can wait." His sic paused, tired optics calculating and then shuttering with acceptance.

"Fine," he said. He turned, facing Megatron, then strode toward his seat. He sat with his back stiff, no longer relaxed now that Megatron's full attention was on him. "Well?" He shifted as his leader's red optics swept over his frame and then offlined with a sigh. Megatron sat down, a servo rubbing his faceplates in thought. Starscream allowed himself to slump just a tad.

"I know about your recurring dream," Megatron stated, right to the point. Starscream's backstruts stiffened immediately. His optics brightened in shock.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Starscream said in an attempt to feign ignorance. His voice was calm, but it was also curious. It sounded as if he wanted to know more, know how Megatron acquired this knowledge but was fighting with himself to remain aloof. Megatron wasn't buying it.

"Don't play dumb, Starscream. You know what I'm talking about," he replied, deciding that he didn't feel like playing around with this. He gave Starscream a stern look. The seeker remained quiet for a moment. He stared at Megatron with calculating optics. When he spoke again, his voice was low.

"How do you know about that . . ." Starscream's tone was dangerous. Anger and confusion bubbled up inside of him, emotions flooding his processor all at once like a broken dam. In a fit of impulsivity, he jumped to his pedes, body leaning toward Megatron as if he was trying to seem intimidating. "You've been tampering with my processor, haven't you?"

"I've done no such thing," Megatron replied, tone defensive. He stood as well. Starscream merely stepped closer, a digit poking into Megatron's chassis. 

"No! Shut up," Starscream demanded. "Do you have any idea how much recharge I've lost over this?! An Earth year's worth of my time, _an Earth year_ , and all because of you-"

"I said, I've done no such thing!"

Starscream's breath hitched, stunned into silence. He took a moment, calculating, processing, then took a step back. He broke optic contact with Megatron and let his gaze drop to the floor. "That's hard to believe considering you-" 

Megatron groaned. "Shut up and let me explain!" He brought a servo up to the bridge of his nose and pinched. Yes, listening, he was supposed to be trying that, but he wasn't going to let Starscream go off on a tangent over an issue that didn't exist. He would listen, he promised himself that, but not until he could explain. Surprisingly, Starscream complied and remained quiet, but Megatron knew the seeker would resort to yelling if he didn't choose his words carefully. "I've been trapped in those dreams too," he decided on. 

Starscream's faceplates morphed into a quizzical look. "Wh- . . ." He started. His optics were locked onto Megatron's now. "What do you mean? If you're not orchestrating it, then who is?" 

Megatron, visibly frustrated, held down the need to remind Starscream that not everything was a plot against him and decided to be as civil as possible. "I don't know. What I do know is that I've been there. Every time." Starscream's faceplates expressed even further confusion. 

"But- but I've never seen you! That's impossible! I've searched the whole area multiple times. I would have noticed you!"

"I never said I was visible," Megatron retorted. The seeker flinched back.

"That-"

"Listen, you fool," Megatron interrupted. "I was _there_. Above the pool. I've been _invisible_. I didn't have a body, nor did I even have a spark. I merely float above the pool, and don't ask me why, because I don't have answers, either." 

Starscream paused, mouth agape. He shook his head, then, "No, I don't believe you." He took another step back, optics glued to Megatron now. "This is a trick. You're lying!" His spark was racing, perplexed, unable to comprehend.

Megatron's anger only rose at the accusation. "I speak the truth!"

"Then prove it," Starscream spat. Megatron's optic ridge arched up.

"What?"

"Prove it," Starscream repeated. "Tonight, during recharge. Show me you're there. Show me that this isn't just some trick to make me trust you." Megatron threw his servos up in frustration.

"I told you, I have no frame! No spark! It would be impossible for me to prove such a thing," Megatron reminded, but Starscream simply crossed his arms and glared. He took on a challenging stance.

"Well, how unfortunate," he said with malice. Megatron's jaw almost dropped, but before he could gather his thoughts, Starscream spun around on his thruster and headed for the door.

"Starscream! Get back here!" But the seeker was already gone, wingtips disappearing behind the doorframe right as Megatron finished his sentence. The warlord sighed, deciding that pursuing Starscream would accomplish nothing. In a fit of frustration, he fell back into his chair. His helm lolled as he stared at the ceiling. "That damned idiot."

He could refuse. He could punish Starscream. He could slag the glitch into next week. But forcing Starscream would accomplish nothing. If he was going to fix this, he needed to do it the right way. For once, he felt vulnerable. Starscream had the upper hand on him, and as difficult as it would be, he needed to gain his trust.

Megatron didn't have much of a choice, anyway.


	9. Story Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry

I’ve always been terrible at completing chapter stories. This isn’t the first time I’ve abandoned a story because I couldn’t finish it, and I’m ashamed of that. I love megastar, I love transformers, so this time, unlike my 17776 fic, this isn’t me simply fading out of the fandom. This is a matter completely unrelated.

I hate this story.

Not necessarily because it is objectively bad, or because the story itself is bad or anything of that sort. To me, however, this is badly written. 

Every time I see this fic I feel a sickness in the pit of my stomach, a reminder that this thing exists and has brought a perspective on my writing to others that I’m not proud of. I have, through my own thought process, convinced myself that this story is the worst thing I am currently producing, when I know, logically, that this isn’t the truth. I have tried multiple times to motivate myself to continue and I even have an outline for the next chapter, but the idea of creating that next chapter is so disheartening every time I remember that this entire fic is a mess and does not properly convey my skills as a writer. The only writing I’ve been proud of recently is my original work for my OCs.

The fact is, I have no idea when I’ll be able to pick this fic back up. Maybe I’ll rewrite it someday, maybe I’ll push through it and finish it off. I don’t know. I’ve been busy starting a club and getting healthy and stressing over applying for college as well as simply being a senior and keeping my gpa high enough to graduate magna cum laude, so this stress is the only thing I can relieve right now. It’s been in the back of my mind for months, every single time I do something in my free time besides write, and I can’t keep doing that. I’m not saying I’m abandoning this, and if there’s anyone out there that wants to take this story and clean it up themselves then please do. I’m simply saying that I am unable to continue it now.

I am very sorry, to every reader that loves this story. I am even more sorry to the people who have now experienced me not finishing a fic for the second time. 

Now, if it’s any consolation, my writing time will be spent on an original story I’ve been concocting. I might post stuff on here for it and maybe you guys will find an interest in it. I won’t be too invested in it, and updates will be very slow, but I hope its enough. Thank you to everyone.


End file.
